


In Which Spoilers Are Poorly Kept

by bendingwind



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-04
Updated: 2011-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 00:19:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bendingwind/pseuds/bendingwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Amy realizes that River has all the tells she learned to spot in Melody, and River and Rory suffer from spoilers. Accidental!Prequel to when at last i see thee whole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Spoilers Are Poorly Kept

Ultimately, Amy is forced to admit that she just doesn’t _enjoy_ digging around in the dirt the way her daughter does. Granted, they have really cool glowy digging tools from the future, so that speeds up the process rather a lot, but when it comes down to it carefully laying out a grid and digging up soil and sifting through it for tiny bone fragments is just _not that interesting._ Amy doesn’t have the appropriate patience for this kind of work and, frankly, she’s surprised River _does._

She must get it from Rory.

“You needn’t look quite so bored, Mum,” River chides, followed by a light chuckle. “C’mon, I’ll show you some of the graves we’ve already excavated. I suppose that for you, dirt just isn’t that exciting, as tourist attractions go.”

“I kind of thought we were going somewhere… _cooler,_ when you asked if I wanted to go out for a bit.”

“This is coo—!” River catches herself and laughs.

“We’ve finished arranging Burial four-eighty, Doctor Song!” a man shouts, and River guides Amy in his direction.

“I know it’s not really what you had in mind when you said we could use it as an opportunity for mother-daughter time,” River apologizes as Amy scrambles over a pile of debris, “We’ll do something fun, after. I just needed to stop off here first.”

“Why? You’re a _time traveler,_ River.”

River’s fingers twitch by her sides, but she shrugs and looks completely unconcerned. “Just want to make sure everything here’s all right, in case I have to take off for a while.”

“Yeah, but why would you?” Amy persists, hurrying now to keep up with her. Her daughter may be shorter than her, but she is a _remarkably_ fast walker.

“Never know what might come up!” River replies cheerfully. They climb over one last crest of rock and stand above the open grave.

“Two skeletons, a young female and an infant. Standard burial goods for the female, but the child seems to have been buried cradled in a swan feather.”

And for a moment, Amy understands why River loves archaeology. It’s so beautiful, these glimpses of past lives and past loves. She looks over to say as much and, to her surprise, finds River crying. Not just teary-eyed, but red-faced and barely choking back sobs.

“Er—” she says, comfortingly. Or not.

“Sorry, mum,” River manages to choke out. “Sorry, just give me a second.”

Amy looks up at the archaeologist who called them over, expecting sympathetic bafflement, but instead finds him quite unperturbed. He shrugs when he catches her look, as if this is normal behavior.

Just as promised, it passes after a few moments.

“Sorry,” River repeats, looking a little embarrassed. “Er, don’t know what came over me…”

—And Amy is struck by memories of spontaneous emotional meltdowns with little to no trigger, lasting for two months before, like everything else, they faded away.

“Oh my God,” she says.

River seems to have recovered completely. She lifts an eyebrow.

“Oh my _God._ ”

“Would you care to share, Mummy?” River asks, rolling her eyes.

“You’re _pregnant,_ aren’t you?!”

“Of course not, dear, don’t you think I’d have said?” River responds. She’s an excellent liar, the best Amy’s ever known, but if there’s anyone who can read the lies on her face it’s the girl who grew up with her.

“You’re lying. Oh my _God,_ you are pregnant! Wait, who… I mean, the Doctor? It would have to be, wouldn’t it?”

“I am not,” River says, “I’m busy, and besides, the genetics would never work out.”

“You. Are. Lying,” Amy bites out, not sure whether to scowl or to drag River around in a gleeful dance. “Just tell me, River, are you pregnant?”

For a moment, River glares at her.

“I don’t know,” she finally replies through gritted teeth, “But if I am, it’s all I need for it to get out that the Doctor has a helpless child somewhere, ready to be attacked. Would you _please_ just shut up, Mum?”

As announcements to one’s parents go, it isn’t the best-planned Amy’s ever heard of, but it’ll do.

When she arrives home, approximately five minutes after she left and laden with bags of clothes, she makes plans to move her youngest son into his own room. They might need the nursery for guests, after all.

***

Rory finds out a week later, when River shows up on their doorstep with a distinctly grumpy turn to her mouth and a broken pair of handcuffs decorating her wrists.

“Got bored. Broke out,” she answers shortly, when she notices their questioning looks.

“Wait, I thought you were working on a dig on that planet—”

“During the day, yes. I’m on special academic lease from the prison, because I’ve researched the Calamar extensively.” She slips past them into the house, and her loose shirt twists to reveal her mildly convex stomach.

“Oh my god,” Rory says.

“That’s what _I_ said,” Amy replies, smugly. “Tea, River?”

“That would be lovely, dear,” River calls from their kitchen. Rory shakes his head and Amy smiles, and they walk through to where she is already placing a kettle on the stove.

“Herbal for me and Dad, and lemon water for Mum?”

Amy and Rory hum their agreement, and settle around the table.

“It’s nice to see you,” Amy says, as River sets steaming teacups down on the table.

“And to get an explanation for why your mother’s been in such a hurry to move Allen out of the nursery.” The look Rory sends Amy is mildly exasperated and very fond. “How far along are you?”

River shrugs. “Four months, give or take. I had to call up an old friend to bring me here, but I’m afraid it’s a one-way ticket… you wouldn’t mind, would you? If I stayed for a few days? It’s just… he isn’t answering my notes.”

Amy and Rory exchange a significant look.

“Have you told him—?” Amy asks, as Rory says, “I’m sure he’s just busy, River—”

“I haven’t told him, and of course he’s busy. He’s always busy.” She doesn’t look too pleased by the fact.

“I’m sure he’d come straight away if he knew how important it was,” Rory soothes. It is not normally his role to play the Doctor’s advocate, but River really does look very upset.

“Also, you came yesterday and left this for yourself,” Amy adds, holding up a vortex manipulator with a smile. “And I hope this is baby-safe, young lady?”

River looks sad, and drawn, and older than they would have believed as she reaches out to take the gift from herself.

“Safe enough,” she sighs, and she pulls a bit of paper out of her pocket and scribbles a note on it. “Easier to send if I can visualize it,” she mumbles.

Casually, Amy sips her tea. “We wouldn’t mind, you know,” she says, as River puts the paper away. “If you, you know, wanted to stay for a few days before you leave.”

They stay up talking late into the night, and finally she sees River to bed and joins Rory in their bedroom.

“We’re really too young to be grandparents, you know,” he mumbles sleepily as she pushes him over to make room on the bed. “I’m pretty sure this is all your fault.”

Amy just smiles, and turns off the lamp.

***

“You’re home early,” River says, tilting her head back to look at him. He shrugs.

“Said I was feeling sick,” he explains, sitting beside her at the table in their back yard.

“Alanna and Allen were excited to see me,” River says, and almost in spite of herself she smiles. “She wanted to know if I was going to get really, really fat like Mum did with Allen.”

Rory smiles, and for a while, they sit in comfortable silence.

“You never said how you felt about all this,” he points out, after some time. River looks at him, more than a little lost.

“I don’t know,” she replies, and she sounds so terrified that he stands up and moves over to hug her. It’s still a little awkward, hugs, but he’s getting the hang of it.

“Well, for a start, shouldn’t you be happy?”

“I… I _am,_ I think,” she says, slowly. “But it, er, wasn’t... _well,_ you and Mum of all people know that contraception in the TARDIS is iffy at best. I wasn’t planning on a baby.”

Rory chokes a little, but manages to gather himself. It’s his fault, after all, for marrying Amy Pond; he really should have expected to be surrounded by females with a penchant for giving him Too Much Information.

“And, and what if he… I mean, we never really talked about it. I don’t know if he wants children, I wasn’t even sure if we could have them… what if he’s disappointed? I’m… I know him so well, Dad, but I’m afraid of what he’ll say when I tell him. This time, I don’t know what to expect. This—there isn’t a single mention of a baby, not anywhere, not in any of the histories or stories or myths.”

“So you did a good job keeping it quiet,” Rory says, shrugging. “And I’ve seen the Doctor with babies. I think he quite likes them. It, er, he may take some getting used to the idea but…”

“What if… what if there aren’t any stories because there isn’t any baby? There are so many things that could go wrong, Dad…”

He leans over to pat her, a little awkwardly, on the head.

“Shhh, sweetheart. It’ll be alright, you’ll see. As if the Doctor would ever let anything go wrong with you.”

“Aside from the part where I was kidnapped and raised as a psychopath?” she asks, wryly.

“Well, after that,” he concedes. He pauses for a moment, and then continues. “I probably shouldn’t tell you, spoilers and all, but… just after you were born and they took you away, you came to visit us, and you promised us something. You promised that he would take care of you, whatever it took, and you knew that because… you were our daughter. I don’t think he’ll let you down.”

She sniffs and rubs at slightly teary eyes, and nods.

“Okay.”

He smirks, but fondly. “You really are like your mother. I wondered why she kept crying for no reason after the Doctor dropped us off…”

River laughs and bats at his arm. “Shut up, Dad.”

And when she leaves at the end of that week with a goodbye kiss for her brother and sister and a hug for each of her parents, he knows everything will be alright.

* * *


End file.
